


Sepia

by GhostWritter1996



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostWritter1996/pseuds/GhostWritter1996
Summary: Marti meets Nico's dad for the fist time. Followed by some fluff.





	Sepia

I wake up because the body my arm had been draped around all night suddenly feel a lot like a pillow. Confused I open my eyes to meet the stark white of Nico’s pillow. I take in the world around me and try to memorize this feeling of being surrounded by Nico’s world. His room looks different with the curtains drawn. There’s a tint to it. One that makes the room feel like a memory as the light filters through yellow curtains and bounces off a sepia hue around me. I'm only just taking in these feelings when my heart suddenly drops. Nico isn’t here. I look around for a red thread. The one that took him away the last time I woke up here. 

There isn’t one. There isn’t even a note. This time he was fully done with me. I can’t let my heart break like that again. I almost didn’t survive it the last time. I wonder what his excuse this time will be seeing that his parents are no longer out of town. 

Oh God. His parents aren’t out of town. They are probably going to watch me make the walk of shame. It’s still early. The light around the room isn’t as bright yet. Maybe if I leave now they won’t be up yet. I quickly get out of bed. Look for my coat that doesn’t seem to be in here. I must have left it outside, near the door. The door that I’ve walked out of with shaky breaths and a splintering heart a fair few times already. 

I try to be as quite as I can. Finding new ways to disappear. To not be seen. Just like I did before I met Nico. My breath hitches when I see a figure at the table. There’s no way to sneak around it. The door feels like it’s too far. A lot further away than it did as I made my way in through it last night. I’m so taken with how to sneak past the figure without them seeing me that I barely even comprehend that the figure is Nico. I still in my place. Not a muscle moves. I somehow even get the air around me to still. 

I’ve never gotten to observe Nico this way. Without him knowing. He always has a grin on around me. Almost like he can’t help but smile as soon as we make eye contact. So this. Looking at him without eye contact. This Nico looks different. Lost in thought. Here but not fully. Solemn but not sad. Serious but not burdened. Concentrated but not entranced. He’s nursing a cup of tea not coffee. And that’s what gives it away. Today isn’t great. It’s not bad but it isn’t good either the way yesterday was. 

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Swallow the lump I didn’t know had formed itself at the back of my throat. What happens next is fully on auto pilot. My feet carry me to the table. Without a thought I reach out and engulf him in a hug I didn’t know I needed. He melts into me in the way that suggests that he didn’t know either. His curls are wilder today. That’s a sign too. On a not so great day Nico wears his bed head like a crown. It’s one of the most endearing sights. This beautiful, gorgeous boy that can make your insides turn to slush without a care in the world.  
“Let’s go back to bed” 

On such days most of Nico’s replies come through touches. It’s a dance we know well. A nod here. A huff of breath there. Sighs. Smiles. 

As we make our way back into the room. The room that usually holds everything I want.

“Ciao”  
It comes from behind us. It’s soft. Almost like it’s afraid of breaking us. 

My breath hitches. The voice is deeper than I thought it would be. I turn around to be met by a much older version of Nico. He’s tall. Strong but lanky in the way that Nico is. His curls are much smaller and a lot more tamed. It’s the same high cheekbones but these ones diffuse off into scruff in a way that Nico’s don’t. His lips curl around the word. And it lifts the contours of his face upwards. Almost like a smile. It’s the eyes that take me by surprise. They are Nico’s eyes. They shine in the same way that his do. They hold a promise of safety behind them just like the ones he spends most good days lost in. They look kind. Tired but hopeful. 

“Thanks Marti” 

His voice vibrates through the air. It’s a lot deeper than I thought. Then it hits me. He knows my name. He knows who I am. And he’s thanking me. I can’t tell why. I’m confused until Nico lets out a silent huff of air beside me. Oh. Right. This is Nico’s father. The person that has known him before Nico was even a person. He can probably tell that today isn’t a good day. I don’t trust myself to talk. So I give him one of my smiles that say “No, thank you” 

As we walk back into the room Nico goes straight for the bed. I walk over to the curtains to draw them open. It allows the light to come into the room. Light that no longer makes the room feel like a memory. It washes the room with bright hope. I look back at the bed to find a Nico shaped lump in the middle of it. See, when Nico wants to be cuddled he doesn’t go to his side of the bed. He lays in the middle. It’s his way of asking for it without speaking. It’s that same dance of silent gestures and quite understanding.

I get into bed. Behind him. Hold onto him in the way that you do when your only purpose in life is to let the person know that you aren’t leaving. That you are here today. And you will be here tomorrow. I know today isn’t so bad because I can feel his face shifting underneath my chin. I can feel his face lift into a smile. On days that I can get a smile without eye contact I know that we’ll be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> Could you leave a comment maybe?  
> Helps me write more :)


End file.
